KEEP ON THE SUNNY SIDE:

Gathered with the ‘like-minds’ last night in a badly lit room.
A disparate bunch, but all with that singular look in the eye.
I start to giggle, like a kid on a fairground ride, a day at the
sea-side, every toy shop open & free. I’m chuckling, fooling around,
shooting the breeze with a relaxed ease I’d forgotten. This is the
source of the soul food, the ‘3’, the long-life battery.
An orange KitKat & a mug of hot black in the company of people who
know how it feels. When the head’s cleared of noise, when nothing
has changed yet everything is different & the elephant got off
years ago I still need to come here to remember. Give back what was
freely given, the only way to keep it. Spilling out into the night,
people I’ve never met before shake my hand & wish me well.
Some geezer I always thought didn’t like me much hugs me…twice.
I’m grinning, we’re laughing, joking, enjoying the night, the cold,
the damp, aware of the approach of Autumn, living in the moment.
Cars light up & pull away, hands wave in windows as they pass.
We get into the car & laugh, some joke about nothing in particular,
at no one’s expense. Driving home between the fields, talking with
a renewed lightness & ease about anything, random stuff like
normal people.

(K)

CHANGE THE WEATHER:

The rains return to Essex after a day of bluesky food for the soul.
I need it all for the long haul as my nursing skills are found
wanting. Not good to be around dark vibes or be left alone with
anyone whose sport is emotional punishment. Yesterday I returned
to my role as primary carer, to be the target of progressive
abuse. Coming from someone who has, all their life, shown me love
& affection, it’s a dark blow to the soul. Left alone all day
in this environment, long into the night drags a body down. Reminds
me of the years I spent alone in my head or alone in my flat,
always desperately alone. Truth is, it’s not like that if I choose
to see it the way it actually is. Everything is going to be ok. Just
been spending too long away from the sunlight & it’s people.
Been putting other’s recovery first to the detriment of my own.
Dad always told me, “Son, if you don’t take care of yourself
how are you going to take care of anyone else?”. Words that ring
more true now than ever, as the steepening learning curve
reveals familiar paths. These are roads I’ve been travelling 18
years now. Easier to be on the inside than to watch someone you love
suffer from the outside. Better that it would be happening to me
than to witness that thing get a hold of someone so precious.
Most days I’m grateful for the tools I have & the path I’ve walked
out of darkness that gives me insider knowledge you can’t find in
books. Most days I’m grateful for a smile, a wave from a passing car,
a bluesky & a morning recording with my mate. What don’t kill you
makes you stronger. These slaps in the face & emotional attack
haven’t killed me yet nor driven me away. Neither is likely, I’ve got
all the tools here & I don’t have a choice, but to nurse the sick &
dying back to health. One day we’ll all laugh, till then fill the
kettleI feel the sun returning.

(K)

IDENTITY:

Happy to report the holiday I took today. Time back in the
studio with Rick is time out for me. Writing & recording,
throwing it around together. A late start after driving the
length of the county, collecting stuff for the tribe. I felt
like a deserter, guilty to be happy. It’s been a long time
since I could take a break from the worry that’s been eating
me for months. The concern over the health of people I love
wears me down. Most evenings I feel melancholy & alone, it’s
been a long time since I’ve said that. Nights are filled with
exhausting dreams that I jerk awake out of to be haunted by
future fears. But today, the sun shone on Essex. I made music
with my mate & remembered who I was.

(K)

HEAVY HUMMING & ANIMAL DREAMS:

Awake a lot last night, up walking the corridors. This time
the legs work with purpose, the body & head in sync do what
they’re meant to. Six times I checked on your breathing,
every time I was about to fall asleep I’d get this feeling,
‘Maybe this is the one time I don’t check you & you really
need me’. I remember as a small child waking up in the night
not being able to breath, well, more like ‘forgetting how to’.
I’d forgotten all about that ’till now. It was terrifying
for a little kid to not be able to breath or call out for
help, like drowning alone. The night is full of aeroplanes,
not jets, but real old-school prop planes, big ones, humming
heavy to themselves in the sky. It’s like a hole has opened
in time & the night is full of the past. It’s exactly like back
when I was a kid (the kid thing again), planes humming loud
as they cruised high above our little backwater town.
Oblivious to us worker ants sleeping in the dark beneath them.
Back then I used to wonder who or what was flying so late at
night & where they were going. Where had they come from & what
were they carrying that was so important to wake us. Planes were
for people with money & when I heard them I felt small,
insignificant. Some kids may have heard them & been inspired to
be pilots, but I never believed I’d ever be rich enough to get
near one let alone ‘fly’.
I fall into deep mini sleeps & dream of Cats & chickens living
in harmony. Stretched out in front of the Aga, curled up together.
It’s a weird & beautiful sight that makes me feel good, like
everything’s OK & in it’s place. As I watch the Cats asleep with
the chickens I feel good protecting them making sure their gentle
harmony remains unthreatened. The house feels peaceful the more
they stroll around the house. Cats keep appearing, each with it’s
own chicken. Walking serene & slow, like they’ve found sanctuary.

(K)

HAUNTED:

Head started hungover from a dose of that old school thinking.
Got myself caught up in looking back & forward, remanissing &
projecting. Ended up melocholly infected with fear. Couldn’t
shake it. Turned in, playing tech Boggle till I beat last night’s
score, then read about addiction ’till my eyes crossed.
Dreamed the same dream in stereo, first time I’ve ever done that.
Everything & everyone was the same in both dreams. Moving in sync,
locked together except for the content – suchi. Bloody sushi,
couldn’t get it off my mind, everything in the night was about food.
The dream to the right was full of Suchi, the dream to the left
had empty plates, nothing for sale, nothing to eat. It wore me out.
Woke up a lot & walked around, staggering up the hall like the
ship’s drunk. Considered lying in when the alarm went off, but got
bored & I’m not going back to duvet diving.
Something’s up with the throat, may have to call the camera man
to stick that thing up my nose again, check out what’s going on
under the bonnet. At the big studio today recording guitar
overdubs, door wide open, freezing cold. What happened to
summer then?

(K)

KEEPING THEM IN THE AIR:

Will the muse visit today? Will the phone stop ringing?
Will this throat transform itself into an instrument of
beauty or remain a rasping foghorn? I press ‘play’ & the
track speaks to me, but I’m all out of confidence or am
I out of balls?

(K)

YOU MISSED ANOTHER DAY YOU:

So what happened was like I took my foot off the pedal my eye off
the ball my hand off the wheel & my head off altogether. It felt
so good that I left it off all day, then it rained. The rain
reminded me of being little, snuggling under the covers in winter,
listening to the road hiss down in the valley. The sizzle of rubber
rolling in the rain does it for me.

(K)

ALTERNATIVE MEDICINE:

Today’s body is full of question,
“Who the hell was driving Thursday night!?”
Took it to bed early, but it kept waking up, walking around in the
dark like a drunk in a hurricane. Slept in till 06:00,
then 08:00. Woke heavy eyed but human, watching blue tits dance
in rain the gutters. The fragile phase behind us, we find ourselves
robust enough to download another dose of World. The body & me are
doing fine, singing the same line on a loop to a melody that lifts
morning into sunlight.
“What don’t lift you, drags you down. Keep away from the Dark Sides.”
I’m telling you straight, laughter is the antidote when there’s no
kickdrum to dish the adrenaline.

(K)

DAMAGE:

Something weird happened with the hearing last night on stage.
All the high-end groove (hi-hats, cymbals, shakers) went off
in the left ear, but the rest of the music was still audible.
I ran over to the side of the stage, got everyone to check my
radio receiver with their headphones & no one could hear anything
wrong. So I listened using their headphones instead of my in-ears
&, right enough, there was nothing wrong. Put my in-ears back in
& there was no hi-end in the left ear. So I blew down the holes
of my left in-ear & when that didn’t work I reluctantly ‘sucked’.
It was waxy & bitter, but nothing I did fixed the problem.
Then I tried moving the in-ear around in my ear (still with me?)
& bits of hi-end started breaking through. Soon as I found a
position that worked I left it, just in time for Rez to finish
& ran back on stage, making out nothing was wrong. The rest of the
night went smoothly. For some reason I had a surplus of energy
& threw myself around the stage wilder than I’ve done all year
(paying for it now…). Back at the bus, sweat soaked & dripping,
the air-con turning every external liquid cold & clammy,
I changed in silence between the bus bunks. We laughed, shook hands,
hugged & grinned, another night of smiling faces, another mission
complete. I slipped into my bunk, pulled the curtains & put in
my ‘bed time in-ears’ settling back in the dark as I pressed
‘Play’ on Dylan’s ‘Tangled up in Blue’. To my horror, there was
no high end in my left ear, though as soon as I stopped the music
the world around me seemed in perfect stereo. I turned Dylan off
& rolled over in the dark trying to convince myself there was a
logical explanation that wasn’t irreparable & hoping sleep would
come fast.

(K)

SUNRISE ON THE ISLE OF LIGHT:

They got actual showers for actual artists here, clean & serene.
I beat the queues & hung my stuff on a hook, ready for the rebirth.
Hot water does the trick every morning, fixes the head back on
straight, making me chuckle concealed in a plastic box on wheels
in a southern field.

(K)